


Wrong Love

by Callmesuperfreak



Series: When Monsters Meet The Underworld [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Angst, Buruburu, Daddy Issues, Demons, F/M, Family, Ghosts, Love, M/M, Monsters, Pain, Possessing, SPN - Freeform, Season 9, Sex, Spirits, Teresa Palmer - Freeform, Torture, Wrong love, prophet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-14 00:24:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1245811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callmesuperfreak/pseuds/Callmesuperfreak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*End season 8/ beginning season 9*</p><p>Sam is recovering from the trials. He is less bad than he was at the beginning of season 9. The only thing he does is sleeping for days in the bunker. When he wakes up, the only thing he does is staring at the ceiling with pain in his eyes or throwing up.<br/>Kevin has found his "dessert" in the farest corners in the bunker and only comes out to eat or pee.<br/>Crowley is all tied up in the dungeon after Dean and Castiel had found it.<br/>Castiel has become human and lives in the bunker.<br/>Dean had lost his faith in everything. The angels have fallen, Abaddon is getting stronger and hunting for them and the fact that he's losing Sam is unbareble. </p><p>And then there's Loïs Wilson. An assassin who's ass is being hunted by the Chinese Mafia and the key to make everything better or worse. It depends on which side she's on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys!  
> This is my first fanfiction here and I'm not sure if I will finish this one. If I'm stimulated enough I'll probably go on. To get me stimulated you should leave a comment with what you think of it and maybe with some tips :)
> 
> Fyi. English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry for the bad grammar!

**Prologue**

 

Fingertips were slowly tapping on the arm side if the couch she was sitting on. Her head was rocking to and fro a little bit from the music that was beaming through her headphone. Though the music was suppose to make you dance through the room or at least make you sing along, the girl just stared in the distance with dull eyes. Just listening to the hard sounds, tapping on the couch with her fingers and slowly moving her head a bit on the rhythm of the music.

After a while her eyes went to the clock that was hanging above the television. It said that the time was six past seven. He promised to be there at six o’clock. On that moment her phone buzzed in her pocket. Quickly she pulled it out and looked at the lightened screen. As soon as she saw the name of the person who texted her, she unlocked her phone.

 

 **_Dad says:_ ** _Sorry I’m late, Sweetheart. I had to handle this last costumer. I promise the movie would be worth it._

He was always late. Always when he told her to be there for diner or any other event, he was late. Why would it be any different this time? She sighed and knew she couldn’t be mad at him. He was all she had and she was all for him. Her mother passed away. All she knew was that she was murdered. Her father didn’t speak a word about it. And even though it was ten years ago, he still can get mad when she would bring up the subject. How and why? But she couldn’t blame her father. It was the love of his life and he just lost it in a snap of a second.

 

 **_Loïs says:_ ** _Don’t worry. I get it. Guess you have to take me to diner as well :)_

**_Dad says:_ ** _Haha. My girl knows how to negotiate. Okay then. Go grab your jacket. See you in ten._

**_Loïs says:_ ** _See you in ten._

Sometimes she wondered what her father did for living. Where all the money came from. And so  this was another subject her father didn’t want to talk about. He said Loïs shouldn’t ask about it. That it was a job nobody want and that she had to make sure she didn’t get in. ‘Cause once you got in, you never get out. She had thought about millions of jobs that could be so boring that she never wanted to get in. And once she got in, she never could go out. But every single time she couldn’t think of anything logical. Especially because she knew her father. He was the most sweetest man you could imagine. He was never angry, and when he was, he always regretted it the second after he yelled at her. She was his little princess and he wanted to do anything for her. Too bad he was away most of the time. Because, of course, of his job.

 

Eventually Loïs stood up to get her jacket. The moment she was in the hallway, the door opened and a tall man with dark blonde hair stepped in the hallway. As soon as he saw his daughter he smiled. He bended over to give Loïs a kiss on her forehead.

“Again, sorry I’m late.” He said while he casted her a guilty. Loïs couldn’t stay mad at him for long.

“No problem, dad.” She said with a little smile as she put on her jacket.

“Well, let’s go to the movie then!” he yelled with a happy face and put one hand in the air. Loïs looked at him for a second and then just shook her head with a chuckle. After that she walked into the gallery of the flat. He father followed.

“And Mexican food after that!” Loïs imitated her cheerful father. Soon she could hear him groan. “C’mon, dear. You know how gassy I get from Mexican.” He whined behind his daughter. Loïs started to laugh and was hoping on his reaction. She started to walk next to him and threw an arm around his shoulder.

“I know, that’s your punishment for being late and missing the first movie.” She said and petted his chest two times with her other hand. Her father sighed and looked at Loïs.

“You should be grateful for having your own room.”

 

“Did you see how shocked the man was in front of us?! He seemed to shit his pants when he saw the girl’s stomach being ripped out!” Loïs laughed as she took another spoon of her tortilla soup. Her father was laughing and nodded a bit. He only had a single taco in front of him. Loïs knew how bad he could take Mexican food. But too bad for him, it was her favorite food. Once her mouth was empty again, she started talking again.

“Really, if you can’t take horror movies, then don’t go. I mean, I can’t take chick flicks and you don’t see me watching them.” Loïs went on. Her father was outstanding quiet. This made her mouth shut as well.

“Dad, are you alright? Is it the food?” she asked. He father looked up when he realized what his daughter said. Eventually he shook his head.

“No, dear. There’s nothing to worry about.” He smiled at her. After that he even took a rather large bit from his taco. But still Loïs thought he acted unusual. She began to sit up straight and looked her father in the eyes.

“Dad.” She simply said. It was enough for him to realize lying to her wouldn’t be a clever set. He sighed softly, looked at his hands and then looked back at his daughter.

“Loïs, listen carefully. I know I can’t lie to you. But I promise you it would be alright. Do you believe me?” he said slowly. Again he had guilt in his eyes. Like he was sorry for not telling his little princess what was going on. But he couldn’t. There are some things that he just couldn’t pronounce. He must protect her.

“No.” was the only thing Loïs said. A weak smile appeared on her father’s face when he saw his child acting so stubborn.

“But _I_ know you’re not going to tell me. So I guess I have no other choice.” She continued.

 

On the way home it was silent. Loïs’ father was driving the car and she herself was looking through the window. Though she wasn’t really looking. Her eyes were just numb and staring into the distance of the road. It was still playing in her head. What was her father hiding from her, again? Reasons crossed her mind, but none of them would be a legit reason not to tell your bloody own daughter. It frustrated her, but she knew if she would ask him again she wouldn’t get a straight answer.

 

The door closed from their apartment.

“You know, I think I can never get used to this house. It smells like old people.” Her father complained as he hung up his jacket. Loïs did the same and just grinned a little. They moved around pretty much. It was all because of her father’s job. Loïs didn’t really matter. She wasn’t the kind of person who makes tons of friends. She’d rather sit at home and draw things than go out to parties and get drunk.

“I think I’m taking a shower.” Loïs just mumbled something like “Okay.” as respond to her father as she went to her own room. It hung full of her drawings. She herself thought she was pretty good in it. It wasn’t the abstract simple stuff most people call art these days. These pictures were real people and real landscapes brought in paper by just a simple pencil or charcoal. For a moment she just stood still to look at one of her most valuable drawings. It was made of charcoal to give it a more mysterious glimpse. It had three persons. Her father and her mother were standing side by side. Holding each other. In front of them was a child version of Loïs. Once this was a real picture standing beside the television in their previous home. But it got lost when she and her father moved here. So she drew the same picture for as far as she could remember it.

On the moment Loïs dropped herself on her bed she heard something heavy dropping on the floor. It sounded like a closet was tumbling on the ground followed by some growls. Within a split of a second she was sitting up straight in her bed. Silence had returned in the apartment, but it wasn’t the regular silence she was used to.

“Dad?” Loïs carefully spoke, but loud enough to hear it echo through the apartment. No sound. She would wait five seconds and if there was no respond, she would see if there was really something wrong.

“Dad?” she called. One second, two seconds, three…. Her heart seemed to drop as soon as she heard a loud bang. It was not the sound out another closet that fell. It was the sound of a gunshot.

 

There was no doubt in Loïs’ actions. She stood up, looked around in her room to see what she could use as her weapon. There was nothing she could use, but she needed to defend herself against whatever there was playing in the other room. Time was short, so without anything to defend herself Loïs ran to the living room. Strange enough she wasn’t scared. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins, but the only thing that she could think of was finding her father to see if he was alright and that she was just imagine the sounds.

There was nobody in the living room or the bathroom.

“Dad!” Loïs shouted.  Her heart almost bounced out her chest. This couldn’t be true. All worst case scenarios playing inside her head while she rushed into the bedroom of her father.

 

Suddenly nothing mattered. If the world would crash down at this very moment and Loïs would die, she wouldn’t matter. She would gratefully take the opportunity to die. Everything but not seeing this. Her worst nightmare didn’t even compare to the picture in front of her. The scene of the ripped and bloody stomach she had seen in the cinema this evening was making her laugh, while a single gunshot through her father’s head made her want to cry. It sucked up every light in her heart and shred every happy memory to dust. Her knees couldn’t carry the heart of her broken heart that she had to let them fall as eyes were so fixed on the lifeless corpse that once was her father. Why? It was the only question she could think of. Why?

From then on her emotions seemed to realize what was happening and tears started to well up in her eyes. A limp was filling her throat as she crawled on hand and feet to the only parent she had left. Uncontrollably sobs left her mouth as she reached her father. She wanted to touch him. To see if he was still breathing. Maybe he survived. Maybe the person who shot him missed his brain, which was just impossible.

But all Loïs could do was holding her hand in front of her mouth as she looked at her father with teary eyes.

At some point she just couldn’t look at him anymore. She couldn’t bare the torture of seeing the dead body. Her eyes went through the room as sobs still left her mouth and tears were still flowing over her cheeks like fallen stars. The bookcase had indeed fallen. There was a clearly sign that there has been a fight. The bed sheets were messy, which was nothing for her father.

                Loïs had to close her eyes as she fell how another waterfall of tears were welling up in her eyes. For a few seconds she could do nothing more letting out the growls of pain and suffer. Slowly she tried to open them again. Her eyes fell on a door that wasn’t familiar with Loïs. It was behind the fallen closet. It was slightly opened. The separate lock desperately wanted to be one again, but remained parted as the door stayed on its slightly opened place.

                A frown appeared between her broken eyes as she slowly stood up. Her knees were still weak and had a hard time to holding her body up. But her curiosity won the fight from the strength. Something in her said that she shouldn’t look behind that door. There was a reason why it was hidden behind the closet. There was a reason why there was a lock on it. But why did it had to be a secret for Loïs?

                Slowly she walked towards the door. The world around still as numb as it was on the moment she found her father. Everything went in slow-motion when she reached out her hand to grab the iron doorknob. On a really slow pace she opened the door. Why? Maybe because she was afraid of what was behind that door. Maybe it would give away the answers on the questions that went through her head. Maybe it would change her life forever. And oh yeah, it did.


	2. Garth's call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Geez, sorry man. Since when is it forbidden to call my idjits for a little talk?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the first chapter. I'm really bad at summaries, so I'll just use a quote from the following chapter.

_Wake up in the morning_ __  
And I raise my weary head __  
I got an old coat for a pillow __  
And the earth was last night's bed __  
  
I don't know where I'm going __  
Only God knows where I've been __  
I'm a devil on the run __  
A six gun lover __  
A candle in the wind, yeah!

A grin, which screamed mischief and peril, slipped around her lips as she walked down the street. Her hands were covered in the red liquid that anyone could identify as blood. But as long as she kept them in her pocket, no one would ever notice. The same was for the dirty knife in her pocket. Living this life didn’t have many perks. And getting everything dirty was one of them. But she needed to do something. She needed to earn money while she was on the road. And for now this was the only thing she could think of. It was probably the only thing she could do best. Follow the footsteps of her father.

                Loïs walked around the corner and made her way into the woods that was adjacent to the village. She had seen an abandoned house for a mile or so away from here. She would stay there for the night and pick up the money tomorrow. There wasn’t a motel or anything in the village, so the nearest place to stay for her was there. But she didn’t really mind it. It was quiet and only for a few hours of sleep. She would leave in a few hours. After picking up the money she would make an appointment with Alex. Alex was the only one she could trust. Or at least the only person Loïs trust.

                She did a job for him in her first week in America. He was a drugs dealer and someone wasn’t paying him for some heavy stuff he sold the guy. All these years Alex remained saying that he could handle him by himself, but that he didn’t want to get his hands dirty. But Loïs knew better. Alex’ hands were everything except clean. Though she never could get the real reason he called for her help. Maybe it was because he wanted to help her getting a job. Maybe Alex was just too scared or weak to fight the guy. Back then he was a whole different person than he is now. Of course he’s older and stronger. But his position in the whole drug dealer world had increased as well. He is more respected and advised.

                Ever since that job she and Alex remained having contact. Every once in a while he would have a job for her. Sometimes they didn’t have any contact for months, but it never seemed to matter. Once they had spoken each other again, it seemed that not a day had passed by. And this time would be the same. She hadn’t seen him for almost half a year, but she would be welcomed by him with a punch on her shoulder, a cheeky and tossy grin and a cold beer.

 

Miles away from Loïs, in Montana to be precisely, Dean was sitting at the kitchen table. Silence surrounded him as his thoughts screamed chaos and unclear things. The bottle of beer in his hands was full for three quarters straight. He just wasn’t thirsty anymore. Just like he wasn’t hungry, wasn’t tired and had lost his faith in anything.

                Sam was literally broken from the unfinished trials. He had woken up in the hospital. Dean had taken him to the bunker as soon as possible. Once they were in the bunker, Sam passed out again. He was sleeping for days. Sometimes he woke up. But the only thing he could do was throwing up and looking at the dull ceiling with painful eyes. Every now and then he would drink some soup and speak a few lines before the pain shot him into unconsciousness over and over again.

                Kevin had moved into the bunker for his own safety. His “dessert” was now a clear room somewhere in the far corners of the Men of Letters house. He would come out of that room only when he needed to eat or to take care of his health. The rest of the time he was busy trying to translate the Angel Tablet. Trying to find out if there was any reverse spell to open Heaven again. Since he lived here, he was calmer and his resistance was getting better.

                Crowley was chained in the basement behind a wall of cases full of information the Men of Letters had collected. Dean visited him last week to get some information that might help Kevin with translating the Tablet. But Crowley, as the dick he always was, only wasted Dean’s time with words that could break a cracked man. Luckily Dean was a hard man to break. Or at least he barely showed how shattered he was.

 

Castiel walked into the kitchen. As soon as he saw Dean being lost in his own tortured thoughts, he sighed in defeat. He was human now and there was nothing he could do for his friend. Slowly he walked over to the table and sat on the opposite side of it. Right across Dean.

                When there was still no reaction of Dean, Castiel spoke.

“Dean, Sam is going to be okay. I-I wish I could promise it, but I’m going to do my best to heal him. Even though I lost my grace.” Dean was still staring a hole into the table. He heard Castiel’s voice. He heard his words, but he wasn’t feeling anything for responding. The only thing he wanted was to be left alone. Something Cas hadn’t figured yet.

                “Dean-“

 “Cas.” Dean cut the ex-angel off. Immediately Cas was silent and looked at Dean. Finally he looked up and started to stare straight into Castiel’s eyes.

 “I’m not expecting you to do anything. I just-“ This time Dean got cut off. But this time by the tune of his mobile phone. His gaze went to the buzzing and singing thing on the table.

 

_Garth calling_

 

After a few second Dean picked up the phone with his free hand and pressed the green button before pressing it on his ear.

“Garth?” Dean spoke with a slight frown between his eyebrows. Wondering why he would call.

                _“Hey man. How are ya?”_ Dean’s frown only became clearer as Garth spoke on the other side of the line.

“Why are you calling?” Dean responded without answering the question.

  _“Geez, sorry man. Since when is it forbidden to call my idjits for a little talk?”_ You could clearly hear the grin on Garth’s face as he spoke. Something which annoyed Dean even more. So he released his full bottle and took the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

“Listen Garth, I don’t really have time for this crap right now and you know that. So why don’t you just-“

 _“Okay, okay, okay. Well, well someone is a little sunshine today. Look, I was just wanted to say that I might have a case for you in less than two hours driving. About five people have died this week. The police claims it were heart attacks, but they all had these strange wounds. Though they weren’t bleeding. Worth your time?”_ Garth explained his story. This was what Dean needed at the moment. Something to do. A chance to do good. Dean agreed with Garth and that he would go there as soon as Garth texted him the address.

                Castiel was still sitting at the other side of the table and patiently waited for Dean to finish his call. He had figured that Dean was out on a case. Cas wanted to go with him. He didn’t want to leave Dean alone. Especially in the state he was now. He wanted to be there for Dean and help his friend where he could. He had lost his grace, the angels had fallen and the only thing he could think of was that it was all his fault. And he desperately was trying to make it all right again. And if that meant that he just needed to keep an eye on Dean, he would do that with every piece of strength he had left.

                Dean stood up, took a rather large gulp of his beer, though it didn’t taste him very well, and put his phone in his pocket. “I’m out tonight. Don’t bother to wait for me. Maybe I’ll take a day or two.” Dean muttered as he made his way to the kitchen and the hallway.

                Castiel stood up and chased Dean.

 “I should come with you.” He offered as he remained following Dean through the bunker.

“No.” Dean told him rapidly.

 “You need to watch over Sam.”

“Kevin is responsible enough to hold an eye on Sam. I’m sure he will contact you as soon as he wakes up again.” Castiel said while they walked into Dean’s room. Dean was grabbing his trusted duffel bag and stuffed it with the things he needed on the road.

“Yes, I know that, Cas. But Crowley is in the dungeon and I don’t want him to mess with Kevin’s head.” Dean argued and closed the stuffed duffel bag. Castiel sighed and began to block the doorway by standing in it. Now Dean was trapped in his own room. Perhaps he would listen this way.

                “Cas, c’mon. I don’t have time for this. There is a vengeful spirit on the loose.” Dean called impatiently. He had the urge to just walk right through Cas and leave, but he was forced to listen to him now.

“Listen to me Dean Winchester. There is nothing I can do about your brother. But that I’m powerless does not mean I can’t do anything. I can help you, Dean. Sam will not wake up for another two or three days, we both know that. So let me come with you and let me at least watch over you!” Cas’ voice was more stern than it was seconds ago. It was quite intimidating for Dean. Which meant it was working. Dean looked at his ex-angels with an annoyed face and eventually gave in.

                He rolled his eyes.

“Fine, as long as you don’t stand in my way.” Dean growled before Castiel stepped aside so that Dean could pass him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed: don't forget to comment or leave a kudo!


	3. Curiosity killed the cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I am giving in to the feelings that have been chasing me for the longest nights. I am giving in to the feral heats your hand gives me when you hold it. I am giving in.  
> I am giving myself to you, Lord Loymen. I am aware of your marriage and your child. You spoke about them when you last visited me. But you also spoke about my “alluring” body. You spoke about how you longed to touch my-"

Curiosity killed the cat.

                Loïs was walking around the room she was staying for the night. It was the least devastated room in the abandoned house. It was a study just beside the staircase at the end of the hallway downstairs. The house itself was at its breaking point that she couldn’t enter the stairs. Perhaps she could, but she would risk too much. More than she needed to.

                Almost every wall was covered with cases full of books. There were no windows. Only the doorway, the books, a desk at one side of the room and a fireplace at the opposite side. It was like time wasn’t an issue here. As soon as the house existed, it remained as it was. Like the owner here was working at his desk and just went out to get some coffee. But instead of returning with a damping hot cup of coffee, he didn’t return at all.

                Loïs wondered what had happened here and why everything was still so perfect in its state. The most intriguing thing was the working desk at the opposite direction of the fireplace. Slowly her feet began to move towards the desk without asking her mind for permission. Her mind seemed to be completely numb. Her curiosity turned it off and took complete power over her body.

                Her eyes scanned the dusty papers that were lying all over the desk. The papers were a little colored from aging. One of them was a receipt, the other a letter. Loïs eyes narrowed at the position all the papers were lying. She recognized the way people place things when they were in a rush or not. When people work for a long time at their desks it would get messy, but there still would be some sort of structure in the way the papers would lay. As soon as people were stressed or in a rush the desk would be more of a mess. Papers would lie upside down and all across the desk. Plus there would be more of a chance that they drop their glass. Loïs picked up the glass and placed it on its right side.       

                Again her eyes caught something. Some papers had fall onto the floor beside the desk. Whoever was working here, he or she was in a terrible rush. Didn’t even have the time to pick up the papers from the ground. The ones Loïs was bending down next to. At first she didn’t want to touch anything, but the little red drop of dried blood was screaming for attention. Loïs picked up the letter and took a closer look at the little drop in the dimmed light from her camping light in the middle of the room. It was fully dried and even got loose from the paper.

                From the drop of blood she went to the letters written on the paper. Searching for an explanation about what happened here. The only thing that was clear was the date.

 

_19 th of November 1867_

 

Soon Loïs was caught in the letter.

 

_My dear Lord Loymen,_

_I am giving in to the feelings that have been chasing me for the longest nights. I am giving in to the feral heats your hand gives me when you hold it. I am giving in._

_I am giving myself to you, Lord Loymen. I am aware of your marriage and your child. You spoke about them when you last visited me. But you also spoke about my “alluring” body. You spoke about how you longed to touch my-_

 

“You kinky bastard.” She mumbled underneath her breath as a small grin formed around the corners of her lips. Unbelievable, how affaires were common in any century. Even in the nineteenth century the rich people couldn’t control their dicks.

 

A sudden cold breath of air crept over her spine. Goose bumps had spread all over her arms as she felt how her own breath was turning into clouds. Loïs couldn’t remember it being so cold in here.

                _“Rest. Put him at rest_.” Immediately her hand dropped the piece of paper and went to the gun she was always holding at the back of her jeans. Did she just hear a voice other than her own? She listened breathless while he heart was pounding in her throat.

                _“Put me at rest.”_ The whispers were giving her shivers. So she wasn’t imagining. And she wasn’t alone. Though she had checked the whole ground. Unless there was someone upstairs.

                Millions of possible upcoming scenes popped into her mind as she carefully stood up. Slowly she wrapped her hand around the gun and pulled it out of her jeans. She loaded the gun as silent as possible as her eyes darted around the room. Searching for someone. But there wasn’t. Then how could she ever hear those whispers. _Ghosts?_

                _“Careful.”_

“Show yourself.” Loïs demanded as both her hands caressed the gun. Her voice was low and steady. Something she had learned through the years. Do not show your fear and shoot before you ask.

                Ghost didn’t exist. They were used for scary stories about abandoned houses. In real life the only scary thing was the effort people would do to get other people to like them. But still the fact that there might be a ghost in her presence was nestling itself in the back of her head.  

                _“Please listen.”_

“I’ll listen as soon as I see you.” This was completely nuts. Loïs was talking to thin air and it practically scared her to death. She was an assassin for god’s sake. She murdered, even tortured people with a grin on her face and some stupid fairytale knew how to scare her.

                Suddenly Loïs got what she wanted. Someone appeared in her purview. She appeared like a channel that just had been changed. The phantasm faltered before it was a steady view. It was a girl around the age of seventeen. Her cheeks were hollow and Loïs could see the bones almost piercing through the thin flesh. The girl seemed starved. Her skin was pale and her eyes dull. He hair, which was once so shiny blonde, was now hanging in strings at both sides of her head. Her clothes looked like a nightdress. It had holes, probably eaten by rats and mice, and was covered with dirt and dust.

                The appearance shocked Loïs that she pulled the trigger without a second thought. The bullet was travelling through the room before it hit the wall behind the girl. She was sure that she hit the girl. This only confirmed her thoughts of ghosts.

                The girl looked at her chest, right at the place where Loïs’ bullet travelled through her before she looked up again. Her eyes now full of anger.

“Listen!” she screamed as she reached her hands out towards Loïs. What she did wasn’t even walking. She floated with an enormous speed at Loïs. Ready to kill.

 

“Dean, are you sure I should be doing this?” Cas asked a little unsure. The Impala was parked in front of a house. The house was delimited by the yellow straps. Police cars were parked around the house with flashing lights on. People in their night clothes were standing behind the straps in an attempt to get a glimpse of the situation going on here.

                It was half past eleven and on their way here, Dean got a message from Garth that there has been another victim. Actually Dean needed to go with Cas and investigate the victim, talking to witnesses and the police. But Dean wanted to be alone. Not that he didn’t want Cas with him, but he just needed time alone. So he would go check on the neighborhood to see if anyone would act suspicious and Cas would investigate the crime scene.

                “Yes, Cas. Don’t worry. You know what to say and you have your badge. It’s not so hard.” Dean encouraged him with a nod. Castiel was still uncertain about the plan, but he didn’t want to make Dean more irritated than he already was. Even though Dean tried to hide it, Cas could still see the worry about everything and the need to be alone. To sort this out. He knew Dean too well to think different. And he wanted to do what was best for him. He wanted to do everything for Dean. But he wouldn’t allow himself to become any closer to Dean than he already was. He just couldn’t. It only would make things more complicated between them.             

                So without further arguing, Cas got out of the car, straightened the suit he got from Dean and walked underneath the yellow straps.

                Dean took a moment to see if Cas was really going to be alright. He had taught him a thing or two about how he should behave on a crime scene. What he needed to say and what certainly not. He knew how much the ex-angel wanted to fix him. He knew how much it hurt him that he didn’t have the power to heal Sam. And that hurt Dean. All the shit Cas had been through because of Dean. All the pain he had caused him. He was sorry for him and cursed himself for caring about him more than he should.

 

As soon as Dean drove out of the street of the crime scene, it was completely silent. No one was walking their dog or just went outside for some fresh air. Not that it was so strange, ‘because it was still almost midnight on a weekday. Most lights in the houses were off and people had gone to sleep.

Dean was driving a one-way road that was leading its way out of the village and into the woods. Dean was searching for a place he could turn his car and go back to Cas. After a little while he drove across an abandoned house. He could use the drive to turn his car.             

As soon as the car was on the drive, he stopped. The lock on the fence was broken. So now one of the fence doors was slowly opening itself with help of the howling wind.

From the fence, Dean’s eyes went to the house. Ivy plants were grown onto the surface of the house and seemed to prevent it from falling apart. Why does almost every village needs to have a creepy old abandoned house?

Dean got ripped out of his thoughts by a familiar sound. It wasn’t the sound of screaming. A gunshot.

There was no time to think about why and how. But the need to save people washed over him. And without further thinking he pulled the key out of the car, stepped out of it and grabbing his gun out of the glove box. He was running through the fence when he heard a second shot. Without thinking he kicked the door in an attempt to open it. The fact that the wooden door was old and rotten helped him getting it off its screws.

His first thought of what it could be was a ghost, though that wouldn’t explain the two gunshots. Just to be sure he changed the store of his gun with rock shot rounds. Thereafter he held the gun with two hands and pointing it to the ceiling as he held it close to his head.

With great passes Dean walked towards the source of the sounds and knocked the second door open. He just needed three seconds to see what was happening.

One second for examining the place he was. An old room with typical old stuff and two people.

One second for the first girl. Her hair was a dirty kind of blonde. Her body was slim, yet it had incredible curves. And she was holding the gun that had fired the two shots. She was lying on the floor with some books surrounding her. She has crashed into one of the bookcases.

And the last second was for the ghost that was attacking the girl. Without a doubt Dean pointed the gun at the ghost when she noticed the second intruder. Before the girl could do anything, Dean had already shot her. The salt did its job and made the ghost disappear.

It remained silent for a while. Dean was gasping from the sudden adrenaline rushing through his veins and Loïs was gasping from the terror this ghost brought her. What the hell was that?! Ghosts do exist?! And how did the bullets from the guy affected the girl but Loïs’ didn’t?

                All these questions wandered in through her head as she slowly got up. The fall against the bookcase made sure she had bruises all over her back. But honestly, that was one of her least cares.

 

Dean was still looking at the place the girl disappeared. His mind worked on top speed. Who was this girl? What does she has to do with the case of the five, now six victims?

                After seconds he realized that he wasn’t the only one in the room. So he turned a little to face the girl he just saved.

                “If you move I’ll make sure this is the last thing you’ll ever see.” Loïs’ killer instinct wasn’t gone while she pointed the loaded gun on Dean’s chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this chapter, leave a kudo ^^


	4. Don't leave your boyfriend behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don't want to disturb your slumber party."

Silence was taking control of the situation. It took the lead by taking Dean’s voice out of astonishment and Loïs’ because she needed a little while to get the whole situation straight. What did just happen? Ghost only existed in fairytales and yet one attacked her just a minute ago. And this guy saved her with the gun he was holding. She didn’t trust that gun. If it could kill the supernatural, imagine what it could do to humans.

                Dean was holding his hands above his head, taking the gung with him.

“Ho, hold up. We don’t want anyone to get hurt. I’m here to help you.” He said with a stern and controlled voice. Yet he sounded calm. He didn’t want to wake any suspicion that would make the girl really shoot his ass.

                “I know perfectly when I want someone to get hurt.” Loïs reacted sharp while nodding at the gun Dean was holding above his head.

“Unload it, place it on the ground and shove it my way. And all that in a slow pace.” She demanded.

“Okay, look. I understand that you don’t trust me, but we have to handle quick. She’ll come b-”

                He wasn’t cooperating and that had its consequences for Dean. So Loïs pulled the trigger. The bullet traveled with high speed through midair and hit the wall just a foot beside Dean’s head. This was enough for Dean to scare the living shit out of him. She almost finished him! But she didn’t and that was her plan. He needed to know that she wasn’t afraid of him just because he had a gun as well.

                “What the hell? Are you nuts?!” Dean’s voice pitched a little higher out of shock.

“Unload. On the ground and shove. It. My. Way.” Loïs repeated her previous demand with clenched teeth, while she reloaded her gun. She had almost forgotten about the whole ghost-thing as Dean slowly unloaded the gun, placed it on the ground and stood up again with his hand above his head. With the help of his foot he slowly shoved it Loïs’ way. This all happened without breaking the eye contact.

                Dean’s face was full of questions and thoughts. It was all painted over his face. The colors mingled together and not knowing how to color it properly. Was he supposed to be scared? Should he ask who the mysterious girl was and why she had a gun? He had to think fast, because the ghost could be back any second and she would be pissed. Really pissed.

                Loïs’ face was a different case. She had learned to hide her emotions and feelings. This was a stressful situation and she needed to think fast. Deep down Loïs knew how scared and confused she was, but if she wanted to get out of here she had to push her emotions out of the way. This way she could handle faster than when she was spending her time figuring out what was happening and most of all why. If she was still alive after this, she would think about that.

                Slowly Loïs grabbed the gun from the strange man from the ground. Her eyes weren’t fixed on him anymore, but her eyes were open and out. Hearing every little breeze running over her soft skin. Hearing how Dean lowered his hands and let them hang. Immediately Loïs looked at him from under her eyelashes.

                Meanwhile she placed her own loaded gun on the edge of the fireplace she was standing next to and looked at Dean’s gun. It was a different gun from hers. This was a revolver-like one, while her own gun was an old trusted handgun. It was her father’s. She had taken it from him after he passed away.

                She knew these guns and so knew how to remove the store to replace it with another. And so she did. With a quick pace she removed the store to see what kind of bullets he used. These must be extraordinary bullets if they could kill a ghost.

                Unfortunately, and a surprise for Loïs, there was nothing special about the bullets. Only that they were just sheaths filled with salt.

                She frowned.

                “Listen, I don’t want to disturb your slumber party, but she could be back any second and believe me. She will try to kill you again.” Dean said, referring to the ghost.

                Loïs only looked up and held up the store filled with the salt-sheaths.

“Why are these filled with salt?” She asked and ignoring him for the second time.

                Dean figured that it would be best if he just worked along with her. She had the guns after all. Not that he would like to follow order from a girl who doesn’t have the slightest idea from what she was doing. Not knowing she _did_ know one or two things about these stressful situations, minus the whole ghost-thing.

                “Yes, salt. Ghosts can’t take salt. Now give it to me and I’ll take care of it.” Dean said while already reaching out his hand to take his revolver back.

                Loïs put the store back into the gun and grabbed her own gun from the fire place again.

“So it _was_ a ghost.” She said it like she was confirming it for herself. So this was really happening. All those “scary” ghost stories were real.

                The fact that Loïs was still ignoring Dean was making Dean slightly pissed. He couldn’t take it when people didn’t work with him or were acting stubborn.

“Listen to me, I know what I’m doing. We need to work fast if you want to get out alive.” Dean hardened his voice and his glance was getting angrier. Though that was not the thing that convinced Loïs to throw Dean’s gun right back in his hands. It was the fact that she wanted to leave this town as soon as possible. There was a murder here on her hands.

                Finally she was working along, Dean thought. He was checking the gun to see it was still alright.

“So what do we do?” Loïs asked calm and she held her gun in one hand. It was still loaded and ready to shoot. Trust nobody, not even now.

                Dean looked up at her with slight astonishment written across his features. How could she react so calm about this? Most people would freak out or at least shake as they spoke, still trying to figure out what was happening. But this girl seemed to have no fear at all. Like she shut everything out and filtered the emotions that might get in the way.

                Soon Dean recovered himself, straightened his back, lift his chin and spoke.

“First of all we need to find salt and make a circle here.” Dean pointed to the middle of the room.

“They can’t cross the line. Then we’ll look further.”

                Loïs looked at the spot Dean just pointed at. A circle of salt was really going to protect them from a mental and aggressive ghost? There was no time to doubt that. It was either trying that or be sure she would be attacked again.

                “Okay, so where’s the kitchen. Maybe the previous owners were rich enough to own salt or something.” Dean said while looking around the room.

                Loïs looked up and immediately pointed at the only door in the room.

“First door around the staircase.” She said. On that moment Dean was already making his way to the door.

                “Hey, not so fast.” Loïs said. Dean stopped and turned to Loïs. She pointed at the gun Dean was holding.

“I need something to protect myself with.” She simply said. This was something Dean didn’t agree with. He didn’t like it when he had to give his weapon away. That way she had all the reasons to shoot him. And like she didn’t trust him, he didn’t trust her. She was a stranger staying the night in an abandoned house after all.

                “If you’re the professional, you should be able to protect yourself without it.” Loïs added. There was no time to argue any longer, so Dean threw the salt filled revolver towards the stranger and she caught it. With a quick pace he left the study to search for the kitchen.

 

Breath stuck in her throat. Heart pounding fast yet is looked like it wasn’t beating at all. Mind numb and eyes sharp. Loïs was standing still with the loaded revolver in her hands. Her own hand gun was now unloaded between the small of her back and the waistband of her jeans. This crap was just too crazy for her to deal with right now. Millions of questions rushed into her mind and remained unanswered. She hadn’t the time for that now. So she just filtered them so she could stay focused. After all this she would open up her mind again and let everything come at her.

                On the moment Loïs thought she was left alone again, Dean walked into the room with a thin can. It appearance was rusty with the paint, which was once so green, was coming off. Dean shot a quick to around the room to see if anything had changed. As soon as he figured that it didn’t he quickly moved towards Loïs while opening the can.

“It’s not much, but at least something. It’ll keep us safe long enough for me to call someone.”  Was the only thing he said while making a circle of salt around Loïs.

 

No word was spoken, no glares exchanged and both were barely breathing. They were standing inside the circle of salt. Loïs was holding Dean’s gun loaded and ready to shoot. Her eyes darted around the room and she allowed herself to have just a few thoughts into her mind. _Who was that girl? Who is this guy? Why was he here on the right moment?_ Soon Loïs realized that these thoughts were too difficult to answer right now, so she shoved them into a mental box for a moment so she could concentrate on what she was doing right now. But what was she doing?

                Dean on the other hand was busy getting his phone out of pocket. When he finally had the damn thing in hands he dialed the number of the phone Dean had given Castiel. Cas had lost his mobile phone when he became human. A quite ironic metaphor. When Cas became human he lost every contact, even Sam and Dean for a little moment, and turned the screen everyone loved to look at, into one of the deepest shade of black.

                “Cas? Cas, are you there?”  Loïs immediately looked up as Dean started to speak out of nowhere on a muted tone.

 _“Dean? What’s the matter? Did you find anything?”_ Cas’s voice sounded worried as soon as he figured out the way Dean spoke towards him. It was a familiar way of speaking. He was straight forward and directly speaking. There was no emotion in his voice. He was being pure business, which meant that this was serious.

                “I think I know what we’re looking for.”

_“What? How do you know? Dean, tell me where you are and I’ll come to you.”_

“I’m about a mile outta town in an abandoned house. There’s a ghost and she’s angry.”  Cas’ heart dropped right on the spot. This was the last thing he wanted to hear. He had seen Dean being knocked down, tortured and attacked. He’d seen him covered with blood of others and his own. But those were the moment he was still an angel. He could help him if he weren’t attacked himself. But now there were no one who held him back from helping Dean. He was only being held back by his own stupidity for trusting Metatron which caused him to lose his grace and being completely powerless.

                _“Dean, I-.”_

“No, don’t come looking for me. I just came to say I won’t be able to pick you up. Just go find a motel and text me the address. I’ll be there a little later after I ganged her.” Dean ordered Cas to do. Not knowing there was not a single place to stay except this abandoned house or the fence next to the bus stop.

                This was probably the worst thing you could say to someone. It’s like when you’re going to bungee jump and just when you’re about to jump someone says that the rope might break because it’s a little old. How in earth’s name are you going to enjoy that jump? Not!

                Cas wanted to say all of these things, but just ended the conversation with a quick “okay” and hung up.

 

“Well, that’s one way to get your boyfriend worried sick.” Loïs mumbled as Dean shoved his phone back into his pocket.

Dean looked up with a frown and snorted a little.

“Oh, please, he’s not my boyfriend.”

               

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked it: Leave a kudo  
> If you have tips or just want to tell me something: Leave a comment  
> If you want me to post the next chapter: You just have to wait :)


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